Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage

by Teresa F. Morgan

  ‘I’m not talking about this now, not when you’re in such a rage. I’m sorry, okay.’ Harry barged past Maddy, into the bedroom, throwing yesterday’s T-shirt over his head.

  ‘You said we were on the same page. Are we? Maybe we should have discussed where we were actually going with this,’ Maddy said sadly. Tears streamed down her face as he scrambled around for his underwear and his shorts, grabbed his phone and house keys, and ran down the stairs. He couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. His heart pounded, ringing in his ears, his lungs tightening as if he couldn’t breathe. He panicked. Like a stag caught in oncoming headlights, he didn’t know which way to run.

  Maddy screamed behind him. ‘Where are you going? Harry … Harry!’

  Inside his own house, he grabbed essentials mindlessly, his medication and his toothbrush, but he couldn’t think what else he needed beyond that. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing. But he had to get out of here. He had to leave.

  He slammed his pickup door, and started the engine. Maddy ran across the street, her face wet with tears, and although she’d looked angry earlier, her face had paled as she banged on his window.

  ‘What are you doing? Where are you going? Talk to me, Harry!’

  ‘I love you, Maddy. That’s what I’m afraid of.’ But he knew she couldn’t hear him. He’d mumbled it under his breath as he’d wrenched his truck into gear, reversing off his drive. His wheels spun as he pulled away.

  His chest ached, his body shook. She’d be safe. He’d changed the locks. He knew he had to get away. The suffocating darkness was closing in again, and he couldn’t cope. He’d realised he wasn’t ready to love again.

  ***

  Maddy watched Harry’s black pickup disappear out of Annadale Close, and then collapsed sobbing. She didn’t care that she was in the middle of the street. Her body doubled over, as she expelled the air in her lungs, and released the tears that fell onto the tarmac. She rested her hands on her knees, and cried, the pain in her chest unrelenting. Love really did hurt. How could this morning have gone so wrong? One minute they were kissing and cuddling, the next minute Harry had gone. And something told her he wasn’t coming back. He hadn’t even looked at her.

  As per usual, she’d handled the situation in the wrong way. Why hadn’t she remained calm? Maddy was angry with Harry, but she was even more furious at herself.

  When she was ready, she pulled herself up and walked back into her house. The kitchen fitters would be here any minute, and they didn’t need to see her in a mess. This thought alone stopped her in her tracks, and the tears welled in her eyes once more, her throat tightening. Unable to hold in her tears, she broke down again. Luckily, by this time she was behind her front door, not making a spectacle of herself in the road. Why had she got angry with him? If only she could go back, just before he’d frozen, and say something different, anything else but what she’d said.

  If she had stayed in bed … let him come out of the bathroom … approached it more calmly …

  He would still be here.

  Gathering all the strength she could muster and wiping away her tears, she climbed the stairs, showered, and got ready to face the day, although all she wanted to do was climb back into bed. Every time she looked in the mirror, tears would well up. Even as she tried to apply some make-up in the hope of hiding her red, puffy face, her eyes glistened with tears.

  How could she feel like this about someone after such a short space of time? Her life already felt emptier at the thought that Harry would no longer be in it.

  Maddy hid her upset well when the decorators and kitchen fitters arrived. Maybe Harry would come to his senses, and return later, tail between his legs, apologetically bearing a huge bunch of flowers and announcing how much he cared for her. Maddy dared to romanticize that he loved her. Then, she soon realised it was best not to think those kinds of thoughts because they brought on the tears.

  He couldn’t love her; he’d left her.

  Valerie was Maddy’s pillar of strength in the gallery. She fetched the box of tissues, gave her a mug of tea, and sat her down out the back. ‘Tell me all about it.’

  So, through moments of welling up and unable to hold in her tears – she’d dehydrate at this rate – Maddy told Valerie what had happened, even down to the lack of arousal – something she would never share with her mother.

  ‘Well, he could be embarrassed, and there could be other things going on we do not know about. But I didn’t really have him down as a complicated soul,’ Valerie said, rubbing Maddy’s back.

  ‘He’s on medication for something.’

  ‘It could be depression.’

  ‘But why hasn’t he talked to me about it?’

  ‘Maddy, you’ve not really been seeing him that long. You were both forced together, rightly or wrongly, by your house fire. Maybe it’s too much for him, and he’s had to escape to his cave.’

  ‘Cave?’

  ‘Yes, and he’ll come out when he’s good and ready. You’ll make matters worse if you try to coax him out before he is ready.’

  ‘So should I text him?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so. It can’t do any harm. Tell him you’re here to talk when he wants to. Or something along those lines.’

  Valerie went back out into the gallery to talk to some customers who were browsing while Maddy fetched her phone from her handbag. Seeing no messages from Harry gave a lurch of further disappointment to her gut.

  Hey you, not sure what happened this morning. I’m sorry for getting angry. I’m here if you want to talk about it. I really like you, Harry. M Xxx

  She hovered before clicking the little envelope that would send her text message. Should she say she loved him? Did she love him? Was it too soon to admit it? Would she look stupid if he didn’t love her? It could scare him off further … She left the message as it was, deciding to keep it simple so it couldn’t be misconstrued. If he replied, then she could go from there.

  Chapter 27

  Not even sure where he wanted to go or what he wanted to do, Harry just drove, his thoughts dark and his heart heavy.

  After half an hour he stopped for fuel, alerted by the light on the dash that his fuel tank was empty. While in the petrol station, he grabbed a bacon sandwich too. Although he didn’t really fancy eating, he knew he should because he’d skipped breakfast. The dry bread and the over salty bacon didn’t do anything for his appetite. Feeling full after one half, he threw the rest in the bin.

  Harry followed his nose along the A38, driving through Plymouth, and around the south-easterly edge of Dartmoor National Park until he reached his parents’ home in a village on the outskirts of Exeter. If he’d realised that was where he was heading, he’d have taken the A30 which was more direct. The hour and forty minute route had taken him over two hours with the rush hour traffic he’d hit in Plymouth in the morning, but he didn’t care.

  As if to add to his torture, he’d driven along the stretch of road that had taken Karin’s life. Before he’d realised it was that particular bit of road, he’d been unable to change his route. No evidence of a wreckage now, clearly, after two years, only his memory remained of the fateful day. Although the stretch of road was set at the national speed limit of sixty miles per hour, it was straight and clear; accidents happened rarely on this part of the road. So why had it happened to Karin? Even to this day, he couldn’t make sense of her accident.

  ‘Harry! How lovely!’ His mother, April, answered the door. Her expression changed from trepidation about who on earth could be ringing her doorbell to joy and surprise upon seeing it was Harry.

  ‘Hey, Mum.’ He tried to smile.

  ‘Why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming? You’re lucky you’ve caught me in,’ she said. Her expression sobered quickly, seeing his grim, cheerless appearance and she ushered him through the front door. She glanced up at the clock in the hallway. ‘Go through to the kitchen; I need to make a call first.’

  Sitting at the solid oak kitchen table,
he took in the familiar surroundings of his old home; the various old plates his mother had collected over the years hung on one wall, a welsh-dresser displaying her best crockery, the kitchen always immaculate. Leaning on his elbows, chin resting in his hands, he could hear his mother making a call to a friend. ‘Hi, Sue, it’s April, I’m so sorry to do this to you, but can we reschedule lunch? My son’s surprised me with a visit … yes, yes, that’ll be perfect … thanks. Bye, love.’

  ‘Right then, that’s sorted,’ April said, entering the kitchen. ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’

  He shrugged and didn’t say much. His mother made conversation while the kettle boiled, telling him what they’d been up to, that his father was at work and had a number of gardening jobs on at the moment, what his sister, Cathy, was up to. Cathy preferred to be called Cat, but he hadn’t the energy to correct his mother. April had never liked the nickname Cat.

  ‘So, how are things with you?’ He could hear the hesitation in his mother’s voice, not sure if she wanted to know or not.

  ‘Work’s good.’ He wasn’t lying there.

  ‘Aren’t you seeing a new woman? Maddy … is that her name? So how’s that coming along or don’t I dare ask?’ His mother’s caring, loving face looked at him, as she placed her hand over his. Her blue eyes were a little darker than his own, and she wore her mousy blonde hair bobbed, framing her attractive face.

  He rubbed his face with his big hands, exhaustion washing over him. He hated himself. Replaying the incident over and over again, if he’d done things differently, would Karin still be here? But if she were, he wouldn’t have met Maddy.

  Harry was afraid of how he felt about Maddy. These feelings were what had made him bolt. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time … not since Karin. He wanted to love Maddy … but there was this fear, an internal struggle, that if he got close, if he opened up and truly loved her, the same thing could happen. He couldn’t bear losing another woman.

  And then there was the guilt. Was it right to love another woman again, perhaps even more than he’d loved Karin?

  However, regardless of how he felt, Maddy probably deserved better than him, someone who could love her without fear, without the depression.

  Did his mum deserve to go through all this again? But he had nowhere else to turn …

  With this mixture of guilt and self-loathing roiling around inside him, he suddenly needed to be on his own. He wanted to go to bed.

  ‘Mum, do you mind if I go to my room for a bit?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course, darling.’ She ruffled his hair as if he were still ten years old. ‘I’m here when you want to talk about it.’

  She knew how to deal with him. She’d helped him when this had really taken a savage hold of him, and they hadn’t been quite sure what it was. At first, they’d thought it was the grief of losing a loved one, but then they’d realised it was so much more.

  Harry slipped off his shoes and lay on the bed, on top of the duvet, too warm to actually get into bed. He still called it his room, yet it looked nothing like it had when he was a child growing up. His mother had put a double bed in with a bedside cabinet placed either side, and there was a chest of drawers squeezed in opposite the bed. It was now the guest room, tastefully decorated in creams and reds, with one wall – the headboard end – papered with big printed red and silver floral wallpaper. A feature wall, as Maddy had suggested to him in fact. Much more fashionable than the chintzy wallpaper in his house.

  For the first time that day, Harry looked at his phone and saw there was a text message from Maddy. Should he reply? Then his phone battery beeped and died. In frustration, he threw the phone across the room. The splitting, cracking sound of it hitting the wall didn’t bode well for his phone’s life. He certainly wasn’t making things better for himself, only worse.

  Did he really care?

  Harry stared at the ceiling, his heart weighing him down so he didn’t want to move. The tension in his chest knotted, growing larger and larger, tightening his throat, forming tears, the only way the pressure would release. He didn’t know what to do for the best. This is where a crystal ball would come in handy. He wanted someone to tell him that his future would be okay, he’d survive, and he’d live happily with someone … have children, grow old, that sort of thing.

  But would it be with Maddy?

  Chapter 28

  Harry never replied to her text. Maddy would look at her phone every five minutes, then every half an hour, before finally burying it in her bag. She couldn’t concentrate on painting, so she updated the gallery’s social media pages – from its Facebook page, displaying images of new paintings and photographs for sale, to its website with similar updates.

  Val was very concerned. ‘You poor thing, you really have had your emotions put through the mill these past couple of months. First the fire, now Harry. Why don’t you go home?’

  Maddy had thought that too. Today the gallery was the last place she wanted to be. She hated feeling this way because the gallery was her passion. Maybe Harry had come home, and she’d find him there and would be able to talk to him.

  Rain had come in off the sea, as if mirroring Maddy’s bleak, grey mood, so the gallery had quietened, with only the hardened surfers clad in wetsuits left on the beach. Even though it was mid-August, without the sun it was a miserable, almost autumnal, day, the warmth gone, and all the holidaymakers had taken cover from the wind and drizzle in the refuge of a pub or cafe, or back in their caravans, chalets or tents, leaving the high street of Tinners Bay deserted.

  ‘Do you mind?’ Maddy said and wiped her eyes again. She’d nearly emptied the tissue box, blowing her nose and drying her face. She feared she had no trace of make-up left. She would need to see to Sookie, and certainly couldn’t face Simon and his builders at Wisteria Cottage.

  ‘You’re no good here. Go home. Drive carefully, in fact, text me when you’re home.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure.’

  ‘I mean about texting you.’

  Valerie rolled her eyes. ‘I’m okay reading them, but not very good at replying. Now go.’

  Maddy didn’t need telling again. She hugged Valerie and left the gallery. This was not the right time of year to be distracted. She needed to concentrate on her work, but she really was useless today. Carefully, she drove home along the narrow country lanes, gloomy with the rain, not needing a car accident added to the rest of her problems.

  At home, there was no sign of Harry’s pickup as she came round the corner of Annadale Close. The workmen were still in her house, so she poked her nose in to see how well the kitchen and decorating was coming along.

  ‘Be ready for the tiling tomorrow,’ one of the men wearing dusty black overalls in the kitchen said. Maddy had the chosen tiles stacked in the dining room ready. ‘Not long now, and you’ll have your kitchen back.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ Maddy said, not feeling as happy as she sounded. She flicked through the post she’d picked up by the front door. Mostly junk mail and leaflets, but there was one envelope from her insurance company, containing a voucher to be spent on buying a new fridge freezer. She couldn’t fault their efficiency really at getting her house back to normal.

  ‘I’ll be over the road if you need me,’ Maddy said, deciding to get out from under the men’s feet. She knew she worked better without someone hovering over her, so they probably would too.

  Inside Harry’s house, Sookie joined her, meowing for food. Despite it being earlier than normal, Maddy fed her, and became mildly comforted by her purring, before setting about making her own dinner. Not that she felt hungry. Should she make enough for two? There still hadn’t been a reply to her text from Harry, which worried her further. What if something had happened to him? What if he’d been involved in a car accident, and was lying in some hospital bed unbeknown to her?

  Maddy made a simple cheese and ham omelette, throwing in some mushrooms that were also in the fridge, because she actually
couldn’t face cooking. She washed everything up afterwards and plonked herself on the sofa with a glass of red wine, the television on in the background for noise. Sookie jumped on her lap, making herself comfortable.

  Without Harry there, Maddy couldn’t stay in his house. It made her uncomfortable, and last night had proved she was safe to sleep in her own home. Taking her wine with her, with Sookie following her as if she’d picked up something was wrong and she needed company, Maddy climbed the stairs.

  In Harry’s bedroom, she went around to his side of the bed and lay down. She gathered the sheets into her arms, burying her face into them and breathed deeply. It gave her a flash of him smiling at her, his blue eyes, bright and cheerful, his arms strong as he held her and made love to her.

  Finally, she straightened the bed and started packing all she could into a couple of carrier bags. She would move her things out of Harry’s house. Tomorrow she would collect what belongings she had at Wisteria Cottage too. She was moving back home. Her kitchen wasn’t finished yet, but Maddy was determined to survive this, to stand on her own two feet. Seriously, if she had to bring home a takeaway for a couple of nights, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. She checked the bathroom although she’d taken most of her toiletries when she’d moved to the cottage. Her thoughts darkened; Harry had cleared out his toiletries from the bathroom too, and his toothbrush was gone. It looked like he wasn’t planning on coming back any time soon.

  Her worst fears were confirmed.

  Immobile, the pain in her chest swelled, moving up into her throat, and before she could stop herself, she choked and tears streamed from her eyes. For a moment, all she could do was cry and concentrate on breathing. She took deep breaths, blowing out through her mouth to calm herself, to gather her thoughts, to try and stop the tears.